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Anti-Social Engineering
Lessons from reading Mitnick
BY SIMSON GARFINKEL
KEVIN MITNICK IS the most famous computer hacker of our time. His capture in February 1995 by computer scientist
Tsutomu Shimomura was the subject of three hugely popular books. Since
his release from prison on Jan. 21, 2000, Mitnick has taken on the role
of "reformed hacker extraordinaire"—a man who seeks to undo the damage
he has done by teaching corporate America how to defend against social
engineering attacks (while making a pretty penny in the process).
This month Mitnick releases his first book, The Art of Deception.
It is filled with stories of how an enterprising social engineer can
outsmart office workers, circumvent security technology, and generally
make a mockery of our attempts to protect computers and networks.
Mitnick's message is simple: Humans are the weakest link in any
security system. Companies need to spend more time training their
employees on how to resist such attacks.
That's all true—and not surprising to hear from an
allegedly reformed con man turned security consultant. (By almost all
accounts, it was Mitnick's ability to trick people, rather than his
skill at computing, which made it possible for him to penetrate so many
organizations.) However, Mitnick's systematic downplay of technology
and its value in defending sensitive information is yet another act of
deception—one that could be far more damaging than any of his other
exploits to date.
Awareness Isn't Everything
To be sure, many organizations need to improve the security of their
"human factor." Social engineers use internal phone numbers, knowledge
of procedures and even industry lingo to gain the trust of their
intended victims.
One Mitnick anecdote: The intrepid social engineer
calls up the network operations center of a cell phone company during a
snowstorm. After befriending the operators, he asks them: "I left my
SecureID card on my desk. Will you fetch it for me?" he asks. Of
course, the network operators are too busy to do that, so they do the
next best thing: They read off the ever-changing code on their own
token, allowing the hacker to break in and steal the company's source
code. In this example, the caller is able to "prove" his identity by
telling the network operators his office number, the department where
he worked and the name of his supervisor—all information that the
attacker had gleaned from previous phone calls to the company.
Mitnick's message is that organizations need to treat phone lists, org
charts, technical procedure manuals and other information as highly
confidential in order to protect themselves from social engineering
attacks.
Alas, trying to keep such information confidential
is ultimately a losing proposition: Companies simply can't assume that
this information won't get out to competitors, recruiters and potential
attackers. If nothing else, employees are sure to take this information
with them when they switch jobs. Years of effort have also shown the
difficulty in training people to resist social engineering
attacks—these attacks are so rare that the troops just don't get enough
practice.
Instead, companies need to adopt both procedures and technology to minimize the impact that
Perhaps
you can't prevent an employee from e-mailing a critical file to a spy,
but you don't have to keep yourself in the dark about it.
| such confidential information loss can
have—and to create systems and organizations that are resistant to
social engineering attacks.
For example, many of the cons in Mitnick's book
revolve around the theft of a credit card or Social Security number. In
one case, the social engineer who pretends to be the manager at one
video store builds up a friendship over the telephone with the clerk at
a sister store across town. Then one day the engineer calls up the
clerk, claims that his computer is down, and says, "I've got a customer
of yours here who wants to rent Godfather II and doesn't have
his card with him.... Could you verify his information for me?" Trying
to help, the befriended clerk reveals the target customer's name,
address, credit card number and his recent rentals.
It's important to teach clerks not to reveal such
information over the phone. But there's also a technical solution:
Terminals and application programs used by customer service
representatives should never display a customer's credit card number.
This is not a new idea; many firms, including VoiceStream and
Amazon.com, have already deployed such technology. These companies have
computer systems that keep customer credit card numbers on file for
automatically billing future purchases, but the systems will not reveal
a stored credit card number to either the customer or a customer
service representative.
Simple Steps
Many of the most ingenious computer hacks in The Art of Deception
are surprisingly simple: Time after time, the narrator simply convinces
an innocent office worker to run a remote control program such as
Netbus or Back Orifice on their office PC. Once the program is
installed, the hacker can reach behind the company's firewall and probe
for confidential Microsoft Word files, examine e-mail or an appointment
calendar, or whatever. This attack is particularly effective when it's
carried out against some high-level executive's secretary.
A likely attack? Definitely. But experience has
shown that judiciously used technology can prevent clerical staff from
running the vast majority of malicious software. Most hackers are
incapable of writing their own so-called Trojans; instead, they use
malicious software that's already in circulation—and that's already
recognized by today's antivirus systems. Good antivirus systems won't
let a Trojan be downloaded over the Web or by e-mail, they won't let it
be copied onto a user's hard drive from a floppy, and if the software
is downloaded, the antivirus won't let it run.
A more radical technical solution, of course, is
simply to avoid running Microsoft products. Although Mitnick never says
so, social engineers, virus writers and computer attackers of all
stripes have benefited immeasurably by the computational monoculture
that much of corporate America has created on the desktop. Companies
with Macs or Linux on the desktop simply don't have problems with
viruses and other hostile code that haunt most Microsoft shops.
Most companies don't know when they've been hacked. It's all too easy for a social engineer
The
best way to teach employees techniques for resisting social engineering
is to repeatedly hit them with mock social engineering attacks.
| to erase a log file or have an employee
unwittingly e-mail a file to a "drop dead" mailbox somewhere outside
the country. Again, this is a job for technology: For a few hundred
dollars most companies can deploy log servers—special computers that
receive and record log events from elsewhere on your network but don't
allow any remote access. Firewalls can be configured to log all files
that are transferred in or out of an organization. Perhaps you can't
prevent an employee from e-mailing a critical file to a spy, but you
don't have to keep yourself in the dark about it.
Don't get me wrong: Lectures, training sessions and
awareness briefings all have their place. But they only go so far.
Probably the best way to teach employees techniques for resisting
social engineering is to repeatedly hit them with actual social
engineering attacks. That is, CSOs should "penetration test" employees,
the same way we penetration test servers, firewalls and
telecommunications systems.
All companies should have a policy of reporting
attempted social engineering incidents to the corporate security group.
Companies should then randomly call employees, attempt to hack them and
see what gets reported. New employees are exceedingly vulnerable to
attacks; for this reason, new employees should receive several social
engineering attacks during their probationary period, and then on a
regular basis throughout their career.
Fact or Fiction?
It's easy to imagine that many CSOs will be turned off by the thought
of purchasing a book from a convicted computer criminal. Certainly it's
not good for society when criminal hackers are rewarded for their
misdeeds.
As it turns out, the courts agree. Mitnick, under
the terms of his court-supervised release, is prohibited from selling
his story until 2010. That's why the anecdotes in The Art of Deception
are all told through the veil of fiction. Each con artist and victim is
given a made-up name, history, motivation and so on. While this
artifice results in a book that is unfocused and frequently repetitive,
there are occasional gems contained within the book's covers—such as
when Mitnick explains how Caller ID can be forged, and why it is so
important to protect backup tapes.
In a way, it's too bad that The Art of Deception
doesn't tell Mitnick's story. In my opinion, much of what has been said
about Mitnick over the years has been bald-faced lies by government
officials and others—smear jobs that had the side effect of increasing
budgets for cybercrime fighters. Mitnick is in fact a person whose
story deserves to be told. On the other hand, there is a big difference
between reading a reformed hacker's words and hiring one to audit your
internal systems. Read what Mitnick has to say, but keep him and his
like away from your keyboards. 
Simson Garfinkel, CISSP, is a technology writer based in the Boston
area. He is also CTO of Sandstorm Enterprises, an information warfare
software company.
ILLUSTRATION BY ANASTASIA VASILAKIS
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